


Please laugh for me, I'm begging you, Darcy

by Vicarious



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, Thor (2011)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicarious/pseuds/Vicarious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Loki reacts to Darcy's death. How did he come to love so much from someone so little? It might have had something to do with her laugh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please laugh for me, I'm begging you, Darcy

He said he would take over the world, and she laughed.   
  
“Okay, you do that.”  
  
He threatened to burn her world, and she laughed.   
  
“I kind of have to DVR a show on Saturday, so can you do it some other time?”  
  
He pressed her to the wall and breathed down her neck, watching her shiver, but she laughed.  
  
“I really need to quit my day job.”  
  
Darcy Lewis was nothing less of an enigma to Loki, of Asgard. Not of Laufey. nor Odin. No, not of Asgard, nor of Midgard. Even he didn’t know who he was, but she did. She saw right through him, or maybe she didn’t care at all. He had no idea and his own mysteries held nothing to the mysteries of the Midgardian woman. How he had grown so close to her, to the point where he pined for her company, burned for the taste of her, and yearned for something that made logical sense. It was consuming, ruining, maddening.  
  
He broke down on her couch, buried his head in her lap as he weakenly wailed over Thor, over his father, over his failures. She would run her fingers through his hair and laugh.  
  
“And I thought I had problems with my parents.”  
  
Even as he thrust into her, ran his hands over the curves of her beautiful body, and consummated his intense paradoxical passion for her, she wrapped her arms around him and laughed.  
  
“Stark was wrong about performance issues, huh?”  
  
He was sure that his threat to bring down everything around here would terrify her, break her, turn her into the grovelling, weak, dependent mortal she was. As she overlooked the flames of her city that burned, she laughed.  
  
“Of course I fall for the bad guy. Duh.”   
  
Loki was sure that she was mad, perhaps even as broken as she was, and while that theory gave some solace to figuring out why she didn’t fear him or why she seemed to trivialize the depth and disparity around them, it left him with little peace. She was still as confusing as ever. He had pillaged destroyed, and seduced her, but her spirit was unyielding and indomitable. Out of all the nine realms, he could not conquer Darcy Lewis. Though she was here, by his side, watching the world burn, and for the first time in many, many years, he was happy. He had found broken, chaotic companionship and that almost felt like it was... enough.  
  
But then he heard her yell, and it took a moment to discern just what those words were. By the time she had pushed him away with her meager mortal strength, he stepped aside. She lay sprawled against the ground, covered in blood. The mortal reserve of warriors surrounded them and without second thought, he knelt down beside her and pressed a gentle hand to her shoulder. The surroundings disappeared in a hazy flash and they reappeared in Darcy’s home. They would be here soon and he had little time to come up with a plan. The plan would have to wait because as he pulled his hand up, he realized it was covered in blood.  
  
Blood poured out from underneath her body. Everything inside of him stopped cold as he watched her struggle to push herself up, sputtering and coughing a splatter of blood against her carpet. Loki knelt down beside her and rolled her over to hold her in his arms. She smiled up to him, letting out a weakened laugh. He knew this would be the last time he would hear that teasing and mellifluous sound. What if he couldn’t commit to memory? He was struck with terror. Loss shouldn’t be so horrific. It was just a mortal. It was only... Darcy Lewis.  
  
“Why is everything so funny to you?” He demanded, full of regret that his voice sounded so harsh and so cold. She smiled and shrugged as if she didn’t have a mortal wound. He hoped she wasn’t in pain.  
  
“I’m just happy. I’m so happy to be with you.” Her smiled faded as tears streamed down her face. She then sobbed as she reached up to touch his face. “You have to stop doing this.”  
  
“This mortal realm is nothing to me. They deserve nothing for the horrors they so often inflict. Your parents, your employers, your friends, they’ve abandoned you, mistreated you, and for what? Because you are different. Well, they will pay for what they’v--”  
  
Darcy pressed her bloodied finger to his lips and shook her head.  
  
“I wasn’t talking anyone else or your plans.” She struggled to speak slowly, the cognizance of her speech slowly unravelling.  “I meant, you. You have to stop doing this to yourself. I want you to be...” She choked, and Loki rolled her over to let the blood run between her lips. And just like that, as he rolled her onto her back once more, she was gone. Forever.  
  
He would never see her laugh, smile, or tease him again. He would never taste her, experience her warmth, her love, her presence. Everything about her was gone, and so was his love and tolerance for the miserable mortal race.  
  
It was then that he could hear the helicopters surround the buildings. Military teams were storming up the stairs. The heroes of the planet would be here soon and they would pay. Loki was sure of it. He gently set her down against the floor before leaning forward and gently pressing his lips to hers one last time. With the blood upon his lips like a cry for battle, he held out his hand as his staff materialized. Gripping it, he held it to his side and was ready to unleash his brutal magic upon his world.  
  
Though just as the world came crashing down in that very moment, her words rang through his mind. They were so sweet and he could hear them in her perfect voice, and the sound was close enough to make him stop in his tracks. Yet it was her words that brought the staff to slip out of his hand and disappear into the realm from whence it came. How many more lives would be lost because of him? He looked down at her and as he realized it was because of him, not her world, that caused her death. She died fighting not her world, but for him. She laughed because she fell in love with him, but could not stand to see him so sad. Her laugh was everything he had wanted from her. Fear, passion, servitude, grovelling. Yet her laugh was because she cared so much she had no other way of expressing it and her laugh was the sole desire to bring Loki to peace.  
  
The words of the Midgardians drowned out as Loki knelt beside her and picked her body up in his arms. The world disappeared around from them. He had no place to call home, but he would bury her, and promise to her, and abide by her, and that would be home. Loki would laugh. Not this day, but one day.  
  
For Darcy Lewis.


End file.
